


Welcome to the Grid, Arty

by bluerosekatie



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer, Tron - All Media Types
Genre: AU Crossover, Action/Adventure, Beck and Paige are friends or a pair I can't tell here, Canon-Typical Violence, Chaptered, Corporate Espionage, Crossover, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family-Friendly, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Happy Ending, Not Canon Compliant, POV Third Person Limited, Possibly OOC, Post-Tron: Legacy, Sam and Quorra are friends or a pair, Tags Are Hard, Tron and Beck are friends, worth reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24918760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerosekatie/pseuds/bluerosekatie
Summary: Artemis Fowl is in for more than he expected when he breaks into Encom to expose corporate secrets.  Sam and Quorra bring him to the Grid - and they might just help clean it up together.Crossposted on my DeviantArt and AO3.
Relationships: Beck & Paige (Tron), Beck & Tron (Tron), Beck (Tron)/Paige (Tron), Sam Flynn & Quorra, Sam Flynn/Quorra
Comments: 16
Kudos: 12





	1. Breaking In

“Do you remember the plan, Myles?” The young man hardly blinked as he addressed the teen standing beside him.  
“Of course. How could I forget it?” The teen wore a tailored suit that fit his slight body perfectly, as did the watch, shoes, and tie he wore.  
“I’ll wait downstairs,” the woman beside them said.  
The unusual trio could have almost been mistaken for a couple and their child, if the man had not been barely out of his teens and the woman not as fit as an Olympic athlete. They walked the streets of downtown Los Angeles, out to the tall skyscrapers by the wharf.  
The man checked his watch screen and quickly read the message.  
“Juliet’s in position. Make the call.”  
Myles nodded, dialed a number on the smartphone he held, and put the phone up to his ear.  
“Hello. This is Myles Fowl.”  
The man put his hand on Myles’ shoulder.  
“I’m interested in investing in Encom stock,” the teen said.  
The man read another message. “I’m in, Artemis, you’re next.”  
For this was Artemis Fowl, genius, businessman, occasional fairy consultant, and exploiter of the gray areas of the law.  
He dismissed the text message and continued to listen in to his brother’s call.  
“Yes, I understand it is not customary for a minor to invest. However, this is a special case.”  
_So it begins,_ Artemis thought. _The chase that will expose Dillinger’s cheap tactics._  
He strolled calmly to the skyscraper’s base, followed the path given to him by Juliet, and easily entered the first floor of the building.  
A keycode protected the elevator, nine mystery digits that changed each week. Artemis tapped the side of his watch against the digital readout, then entered the code that flashed in green, intricate symbols on the watch’s screen.  
He was in.  
He pressed the elevator button leading to the computer banks. No one except for Encom staff were supposed to visit the computer banks, yet they were only protected by a single keypad.  
_Pride makes anyone weak,_ he thought, saving the victory for later.  
The doors opened, revealing a long, wide room filled with servers and with a large structure in the back.  
Interesting. Laser technology? Artemis walked the aisles, using his smartphone to remotely download any information from the servers. He headed to the structure, noticing as he did so warning signs and a slightly ajar gate.  
_Someone else is here._  
He proceeded carefully, since he could hear whispering coming from up ahead. Soon Artemis was close enough to make out the words.  
“There’s still sentries in there,” a female voice said.  
“And Rinzler - I mean, Tron, must have survived that fall. Clu’s gone, so’s my dad. Who’s to say the Grid isn’t in complete disarray?” a male responded.  
Artemis switched on the hidden mike he wore. _Whoever these people are, they know something I don’t. And that rarely happens._  
He crept up to the source of the whispers, passing another security gate in the process. Finally, he could see who was talking.  
A man, slightly older than Artemis, with a lean, muscular build leaned confidently against one of the metal bars protruding from the wall. He spoke to a woman with short black hair.  
“Even if we have to rebuild it sector by sector, we owe it to the programs, and to your father’s memory,” the woman said.  
The man ran his fingers through his short brown hair. “You’re right. I just wish it wasn’t so… hard.”  
“We’ll take the first step together,” the woman said.  
The man nodded and pressed a few keys on the computer, bringing up a code window.  
Artemis strode in, revealing himself. _These aren’t Dillinger’s lackeys._  
The reaction was almost explosive. The man jumped to a fighting stance, while the woman reached for her hood, but didn’t retrieve anything.  
Artemis raised his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Please return the favor.”  
“I don’t think so,” the man replied. “Tell me how you got in here.”  
“I have a feeling it’s the same method you used,” Artemis said.  
“Okay, look. Neither of us are supposed to be here. So truce?”  
“Truce,” Artemis said. “What’s all this about a grid?”  
The woman looked at the man mischievously, green eyes glinting. “Should we show him?”  
“Why not?” the man said. “The name’s Sam. This is Quorra,” he gestured to the woman. Sam pressed a few more keys, removed the necklace he’d been wearing, and plugged it into the computer.  
Artemis leaned in to see the screen.  
**Open aperture? YES/NO**  
Sam typed in yes, and as the trio stood there, a bright flash blinded them as the screen scrolled with new code.  
Before Artemis could say something about the light, it faded, revealing no apparent change in their surroundings. They were still in a small, nondescript room with barely any light, but it was missing the computer terminal and the laser equipment.  
“What? You just shorted out the lights,” Artemis said sarcastically. He was not going to be impressed.  
“Where’s the computers, then?” Sam asked.  
“I’m sure they’re right--” Artemis fumbled in front of him as he searched for the keyboard. “Here. It was right here.”  
“Well, it isn’t now,” Sam said. Faint lights appeared in the walls and floors, then solidified into neon strips.  
Artemis whirled. Sam no longer wore the motorcycle jacket and jeans, but instead was outfitted in a sleek black suit like armor. Quorra wore similar attire.  
Neon light lines glowed along the chest, neck, shoulders, and limbs of the suits.  
_I have to be dreaming,_ Artemis thought. He looked down to see that he was wearing a similar armorsuit.  
“Welcome to the Grid,” Quorra said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My art of how I'd imagine Artemis looking in the Grid: [link](https://www.deviantart.com/bluerosekatie/art/Grid-Artemis-846913650)
> 
> Well, posting a chaptered story on here now!! It's a crossover, which many of my longer works will be, but hopefully it's fun for both Tron and Artemis Fowl fans. This was not originally going to be quite as long as it now is, but it's fun. It's also not really how I imagine the wrap-up of Legacy and Uprising either but it's still fun as an 'alternate ending' of sorts. I have the whole thing written so if I forget to keep posting just comment and say so.


	2. The Grid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Quorra bring Artemis to the Grid. Artemis has to stick with them to learn the rules (and to be able to get out).

One side of the room was open and gave a great view of a neon and black futuristic city.

_ Like the cities underground. _

“This is the Grid,” Sam said. “My father’s life’s work.”

“Your father created a whole world?”

“More like he found it,” Quorra said. “And led the programs he created.”

“So this is inside the computer. A physical form of digital space?”

“We’re the digital ones,” Sam said. “You’re quick. Maybe you can help us.”

“He broke into the Encom skyscraper. Why do you think he’s going to help fix the Grid?”

“Well, I do have extensive computer knowledge,” Artemis said. “I may be able to help.”

“We’re not exactly coding at the moment,” Sam said. He led Artemis and Quorra out to the balcony and grabbed backpacks from a wall hatch.

“Put these on,” he ordered.

“Let’s wow this user,” Quorra said.

_ User? _

“Any people like us,” Sam gestured to Artemis and himself. “We’re not programs.”

“What about her, then? She’s not a User?”

“I’m an ISO - an Isomorphic Algorithm,” Quorra answered.

“A digital being,” Artemis said.

“Yep!” Quorra gave him a big smile, latched the backpack onto him, and pushed him off the edge. Sam jumped off behind them.

_ That was unexpected. _

Quorra activated the chute on her backpack and four blue wings with cell-like patterns slowed her fall.

“Your turn,” she yelled up to Artemis.

He slapped his back, trying to find the switch, and eventually activated his chute. Sam dove and did the same, pointing out to the city.

Soon they were in a more controlled glide and Artemis could finally speak again.

“So, there’s someone called Tron you’re looking for,” he said casually. “Tell me about him.”

“Is this a good time?” Sam asked.

“Very well. I can wait until we land.”

Eventually, Sam and Quorra straightened out and glided into a walking start on the city streets. Artemis was less fortunate. Despite his efforts to focus a bit more on his physical talents, he came to a stop a few meters behind Sam and Quorra, flat on his face.

“You coming?” Sam asked. “Thought you wanted to hear about Tron.”

“I do,” Artemis said. He caught up with the other User quickly. Quorra scouted ahead and looked for danger.

“Tron fights for the Users, but he got lost when we last left the Grid. If we find him, he can help restore order in the Grid,” Sam explained. “Oh, yeah. He’s a security program.”

“Don’t forget about the portal,” Quorra said.

“Portal.”

“Oh, and we have to do it before the portal closes or we’ll be stuck in here until someone stumbles on the access to the Grid like I did,” Sam said.

“How long do we have until the portal closes?” Artemis asked.

“About eight hours, give or take,” Quorra said. “But if worst comes to worst, only Sam has to get out in time so he can come back and get us.”

Artemis had started to regret revealing himself.  _ Sure, I’m inside the programming and learning Encom secrets. But there’s time pressure and I never meant to get myself wrapped up in saving a world again. _

“Look,” he said. “Why don’t I just leave for the Portal now? You may continue as you wish, but I never asked to see this place.”

Sam smiled grimly. “Feel your back.”

Artemis fumbled and eventually managed to remove a frisbee-sized disc with a glowing blue-white edge from his back.

“I have a disc. So what?”

“Thing is, you don’t have my disc,” Sam removed a similar disc from his own back. “My disc is the key out of here, so without it, you’re stuck. I have a feeling your talents will be useful, so you’re staying in the Grid until we leave.”

“Or we decide to send him back,” Quorra added.

“Yeah, true,” Sam answered. “So for now, you’re with us. Got it?”

Artemis nodded and replaced his disc.  _ My talents, _ he thought ruefully,  _ might be the only way out of here. _

As the group walked into the city, they fell silent. They began to pass people with similar suits and light lines.

“Programs,” Quorra said. She tugged on one of her armbands, covering something hidden beneath it.

_ Hmm. She’s either got a nervous habit or something hidden right there. _

Initially, all the programs looked much the same to Artemis, besides male and female forms, but as he kept observing, he noticed different light line colors, designs, and hairstyles on each program.

One program noticed and walked up to them. He pulled out his disc and activated a sharp light line on its edge, then threw it at the group.

Quorra pulled out her own disc and threw it, intercepting the attack. She caught her disc as the attacker’s clattered to the ground.

As the attacker hurried to reclaim his disc, Quorra shouted “Take cover!” and Sam pulled out his disc.

Artemis took cover behind a glowing outcropping. In this type of situation, he would have taken cover anyway. His combat skills were pretty limited.

Quorra and Sam approached the attacker with their discs out.

“If you don’t want to be derezzed,” Sam said, “you have a chance now to leave. Stay and attack us, and you’ll be cubes before you see the discs move.”  
_Derezzed?_ Artemis peeked out from behind the wall.

The program sheathed his disc. “I’ve got better bytes to crack,” he said. He turned to walk away. His lightlines, Artemis noticed, were a jarring orange-red.

Sam leaped over, wrestled the program’s disc from his back, and tapped it. The disc lit up with a hologram of the program’s face.

“What are you doing?” the program asked fearfully.

Sam paid him no notice. “Repurposed, never new programs,” he mumbled. Strings of code scrolled through the center of the disc as Sam located some extra lines and deleted them.

He scrolled through a long stream of images, then returned the disc to the program’s back.

The program collapsed, and his light lines brightened into blue-white. He stood up shakily. “User,” he said.

Sam nodded.

The program blinked and said, “So you’re not going to derez me?”

“No, what’s done is done,” Sam said. “I’d appreciate it if you would keep on the lookout for Tron, though.”

“All right. I’ve heard he was captured by Clu and never seen again, but there’s rumors that he’s Rinzler.”

“Well, look for Rinzler, then,” Sam said.

As the program walked off, Sam grinned at Quorra. “It worked!”

“Of course it did. You’re a User.” She shoved him playfully.

Artemis waited until the danger was past and returned to Sam and Quorra.

“What happened there?”

“Sentry. Leftover from Clu’s regime. I took out the ‘repurposing’ in his code and left the rest. He shouldn’t be attacking any more programs or ISOs now.”

“So, programs are linked to their discs,” Artemis mused.

“Yeah. Don’t let anyone take yours,” Quorra said.

“Is that what you’re planning on doing to every program?”

“Only the ones Clu repurposed. That’s one down, several million to go,” Sam said. “I’m just glad the method works.”

“Are you expecting to delete the code like that from all those programs in under 8 hours, and get back to the portal in time?” Artemis said.

“No. That’s why we need Tron. He’s the best fighter we have, and the smartest non-ISO program. If I can teach him how to remove that code from programs Clu corrupted, the job will be done quick on our end. Here, it’ll be more like a month.”

“That’s assuming you can find him, and he’s in any shape to fight and learn.”  
“He’ll be fine,” Quorra said confidently.

“I have two more questions. Where are we headed, and what is ‘derezzed’?”

“First one, we’re not entirely sure. Second one, derezzing, or deresolution, is dying. Breaking down into bits and pixels,” Sam said.

“Honestly, Sam, do you have cubes in your head?” Quorra said.

“Hey!”  
  
“Last time we saw Tron, it was when your dad was flying us over the Sea of Simulation. Stands to reason we could at least start looking there,” Quorra explained.

“By all means,” Artemis said. “Let’s stop standing around, shall we?”

“We need bikes or a jet,” Sam said. “Is there a garage nearby?”

“This way,” Quorra said.


	3. Finding Tron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Quorra and Artemis go further into the Grid, looking for a certain program...  
> (Also - late edit - but this was posted on TRON day and I didn't remember! :) )

Even on the smooth terrain of the streets, Artemis found it difficult to follow Quorra and Sam. Their white light lines blended into crowds, and the sleek buildings looked identical from street level.

“Wait up,” he called. “I’m not really used to this.”

Sam and Quorra stopped.

“What are you used to? Being chauffeured? Riding Bentleys?” Sam asked sarcastically.

_ Yes, actually, _ Artemis thought.  _ You’d think that was a punishment, the way he said it. _

He caught up to the others and started walking with them at a slower pace.

“I wasn’t used to the Grid either, last time,” Sam admitted. “All I wanted was my dad back, and I rushed into everything.”

Artemis understood the feeling. The three years while his father was missing had been the loneliest years of his life.

“Over here,” Quorra said. She stood at the entrance to a large building that was mostly open.

“Nice place,” Sam said. He looked at the many lightcycles, helicopters, jets, and light runners in various degrees of repair. “How do we get one?”

“How about you ask?” Quorra said. “I’m not exactly popular with other programs.”

“All right. What’s your name again?” Sam asked, turning to Artemis.

“Arty,” Artemis replied, giving his only nickname.

“Arty, you stay here with Quorra. I’ll see if I can rent us a jet or some bikes.”

“So, Arty,” Quorra said. “That’s kind of a strange name. How’d you get it?”

“My father calls me Arty,” Artemis answered.

“Oh, yeah. You’re a user, your parents give you your names.”

“Where did you get your name?” Artemis asked. He watched Sam talk with one of the mechanics.

“I chose my name, but most programs have theirs within their code.”

“Huh. There’s a lot to learn about this place.”

“That’s what I like about the world of the users,” Quorra said. “No matter how much you learn, there’s always more to know.”

“Don’t I know it,” Artemis said.

“Do you read?”

“Yes, often. Although I tend to find my information on the Web.”

“Who’s your favorite author? Mine’s Jules Verne.”

“I prefer reading scientific journals,” Artemis replied. “Einstein’s theories are interesting, despite quite possibly being outdated.”

“Outdated? How?”

_ Amazing. I didn’t realize she could be so intellectual. _ He began to outline his findings.

Sam jogged back carrying a baton with white lightlines. “Had to haggle a bit, but he let me borrow this jet.” He pulled the baton out lengthwise, and a streamlined jet formed, large enough to carry all three of them. “Get in!”  
Artemis stepped in gingerly, having just seen the jet form from thin air. Quorra entered eagerly and climbed into the seat above them.

Sam sat at the controls. He brought the plane up smoothly, almost silently. Artemis observed the scenery from the second seat in the cockpit.

“Sea of Simulation, this way,” Sam muttered. He turned the plane in the direction of an expanse of shimmering, pulsing energy that flashed with light.

As the jet curved through the air and began to scour the beach, Artemis noticed other aircrafts near the city. Upside-down U shaped vehicles with distinct feet at the bottom, covered in red light lines, headed toward the jet.

“Red means Sentries, right?” Artemis said. “There’s a small fleet of red-lined crafts headed this way.”

Sam turned the jet and made it dive.

“Recognizers!” Quorra said. “Headed this way!”

“Don’t shoot,” Sam said. “We’ll try to get them on the beach.”

He landed the light jet and tossed the baton to Artemis.

_ I could leave. But I don’t have Sam’s disc yet. If I can snatch it, I’ll be out of here. _

Sure enough, the Recognizers headed to the beach, beaming spotlights from their underbellies.

The tiny, cubic grains of gray sand twinkled as the blinding lights grew closer.

“Stop right there, programs!” a voice boomed from the leading Recognizer.

“No thanks,” Sam said. He pulled out his disc and ran in a zigzag pattern across the beach.

Quorra pulled out her disc and threw it, attempting to hit the leg of a Recognizer. The disc flew far, but not far enough, and it returned to her hand.

“Can you fly that?” she asked Artemis.

“If I can start it,” he answered. He separated the baton and the jet formed. Quorra beat him inside and climbed to the turret as he finally reached the controls.

Quorra began firing at the receding Recognizers, and succeeded in drawing the stragglers back to the jet.

The jet took off, and Artemis pushed it to full acceleration and shot after the Recognizers. Quorra continued to fire, aiming for the legs of the crafts. When hit there, the Recognizers crash landed.

Sam still ran across the beach, but he was slowing down. The jet dove and skimmed the sand, caught up with Sam, and allowed him to jump in.

“Nice flying,” he said. “Now let’s take out the rest of those Recognizers.”

Artemis nodded and swung the jet out and over the sea. He circled back and behind the fleet.

Quorra picked off the Recognizers with the lightjet’s weapons.

Now Artemis had to concentrate on keeping the plane in the air. It wasn’t so different from the Cessna, as long as he didn’t think about the logistics of it. The jet’s fire took out the Recognizers one by one and the sentries inside evacuated.

The stretch of beach was coming to an end where the city docks extended out over the sea. The docks were industrial size and even had hangars.

Among the structures of the docks, Artemis spotted a few moving lights in the rough shape of a torso. It was hard to be sure, but they seemed to be part of a tall program’s lightlines. As he strained to make out the details, Artemis accidentally tipped the plane down.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, snapping Artemis back to the task at hand. “Nose up or we’ll crash.”

Artemis tipped the plane back upright, but as he did so, lost track of the shadowy figure.

“I think I saw a program down there with white lightlines,” Artemis said. “But not many lines showing.”

“Let’s go see them,” Sam directed. “Land on the docks.”

Artemis touched the plane down neatly and handed the baton to Sam.

“You’re a great pilot, but I’ll take that for now. Where did you see the program?”

“This way,” Artemis said. He walked over by a stack of materials.

Sam and Quorra quickly outpaced him and ended up almost to the pile when a bright, sleek shape shot out from behind it.

A black and neon motorcycle circled Sam, Quorra, and Artemis, its rider deftly maneuvering the strange terrain. The rider was the mysterious figure Artemis had spotted, who did indeed have very few lightlines, but those he had were white. The program’s face was obscured by a full-face helmet, not unlike a motorcycle racer’s.

“Tron!” Sam shouted.

The rider braked hard and stopped abruptly.

He disembarked and walked over to Sam.

If Artemis thought Sam was muscular and tall, this program made him look like a cat compared to a panther. He was at least six inches taller and seemed to have been carved like a Renaissance sculpture.

“You sound just like your dad,” the program said.

“So you know him,” Sam said. “That proves it. You are Tron.”

The program nodded and his helmet snapped out of existence, revealing a man’s face, chiseled but weary. He had seen many things, few of them good, and the traces of pixelly scars proved it.

“Tron,” Sam repeated, softer now. “Last time I was here, you were one of the reasons I even survived. I never got to thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“We know you fight for the users and the Grid itself,” Quorra said. “Clu’s tainted half this world--”

“He tainted me as well.” Tron said.

“--and Sam found a way to fix it. But we can’t finish it before the portal closes. We need you to help.”

“Show me how it works.” Tron said, a smile lighting up his face.

“First we have to find some Sentries,” Sam said.

“There’s some back there if we hurry,” Artemis said.


	4. Programming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Yeah, I know, chapter names are hard.) Tron, Artemis, Sam, and Quorra begin on their plan.

In a short time, the group had traveled the beach and explained to Tron the method and plan of attack.

A few Sentries, although they were uninjured, remained at the crash sites.

Sam motioned the group forward, and Tron, Sam, and Quorra attacked. They quickly wrestled their opponents’ discs away.

Artemis hung back.  _ Why should I attack? It’s their fight, and I can’t use a weapon anyways. _

Sam demonstrated the reprogramming to Tron, who repeated it on his opponent’s disc. Quorra had already finished, and she set her opponent’s disc back into its socket.

All three Sentries’ light lines flashed back to white, and they stood up, dazed but unharmed. “Tron?” one said, having got a good look at his face.

“Tell everyone - Tron’s back.” He nodded.

The programs headed back to the city.

“That was easy,” Quorra said.

“It should be,” Tron said. “Most Sentries don’t really believe in the ‘cause’. But any of Clu’s generals that survived are probably still trying to carry on his work. Many of them were willingly repurposed.”

“Do the generals know how to repurpose programs?” Sam asked. “We don’t want to free programs just for them to be repurposed again.”

“Some of them do, yes,” Tron said. “We’ll have a lot on our hands trying to fix their code.”

“We still have about seven and a half hours before the portal closes,” Artemis said.  _ I’m actually starting to get invested in this. Great. _

Everyone looked at him.

“If changing the generals’ code will make it easier to create lasting change, then we should see if we can do it before the portal closes.”

“That’s a good plan,” Tron said.

“What if we can’t recode the generals in time?” Quorra asked. “If you get stuck here, Sam, we’ll be in trouble. Alan doesn’t know to come find us in the Grid.”

“Right,” Sam said. “Arty, have any ideas?”

“We split up. You go with Quorra to the portal, and I’ll stay with Tron to help with the generals.”

“You’re not a fighter,” Tron objected. “No offense, but you’d be better off helping Sam get to the portal.”

“I’m not a fighter,” Artemis agreed. “But I’m an extremely good coder. If you can take the generals’ down, I can recode them in seconds.”  
“That’s if I teach you how,” Sam said. “You can’t possibly know what code to remove.”

“I’ve watched you do it enough times to recognize the code, and if there’s something important other than deleting the code, Tron can teach me.”

“All right. Don’t make us regret this,” Tron said.

“I won’t,” Artemis said.

“The main part besides deleting the repurposed code is finding the repressed main code and putting it back into place,” Sam said. “Is that enough information? I can show you how if you need to.”

“I can work with what you told me,” Artemis said.

Tron nodded. “Let’s get going,” he said.

His helmet reappeared and he mounted the lightbike. Sam opened the baton, formed the lightjet, and the others climbed in.

“Follow me,” Tron said. “There’s a general in the city who’s still trying to keep his hold.”

He streaked away on his lightbike, leaving a trail for the others to follow.

Sam steered the lightjet and followed Tron’s trail.

_ Why did I help plan this? The generals could easily kill us, especially if they have soldiers, _ Artemis thought.

Soon the jet and bike had entered the city. The buildings had white, blue, and green lightlines, but as Tron led the group into a side area, many of the buildings shifted to red, orange, and yellow.

“We’re in the military district now. Be ready for a fight.”

Artemis kept looking for Recognizers or Sentries. However, no one seemed to have spotted them yet. Sam landed the jet beside Tron’s cycle and followed Tron into the building.

“General Dyson used to work with me. During the beginning of the ISO war, he was injured and Clu was able to convince him that ISOs were the enemy,” Tron explained.

Quorra pulled out her disc. “We weren’t before, but I am his enemy.”  
“We’re not here to derez him, much as I’d like to,” Tron said. “I understand your passion. But Dyson was a great general.”

She put her disc away. “All right, but if he fights to kill, I won’t hold back.”

“Let’s get in there,” Artemis said. “We can’t waste time.”

“Okay,” Tron said. He opened the door and led the group in.

There were two guards immediately inside. “Intruders!”

“You know what to do,” Sam said. He, Quorra, and Tron took down the guards and grabbed their discs.

Tron tossed one to Artemis. “Here. Practice.”  
Artemis opened up the code on the disc, located the damaged code, and deleted the extra code. He substituted the old code and set it back onto the sentry’s back.

Sure enough, the sentry’s lightlines turned white and he stopped attacking. “I should be composing music!” he exclaimed.

“Good job,” Tron said.

“Thanks.”

They walked into the main room at the end of the hall. More sentries were inside, and the team quickly recoded and healed them.

“Where’s Dyson?” Tron asked one, none too gently.

“Next floor. But don’t tell him I said that,” the program replied in fear.

Tron led the group to an elevator, activated it, and they rode up to a room near the edge of the building. Tanks, lightjets, Recognizers, and cycles sat unused in the gigantic hangar.

“Dyson!” Tron called.

A relatively unmuscled Sentry stood alone in the room. He reacted to Tron’s call by turning around.

“So you’re still alive, old friend,” he said.

“No thanks to you. My time spent helping the Occupation is over.”  
“So you’re here to derez me,” Dyson said.

“Would I warn you if I was?” Tron replied. He jumped down to Dyson, disc out, but unlit.


	5. Dyson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tron, Sam, Quorra, and Artemis clash with Dyson in an attempt to recode him.

Dyson had seemed relaxed before, but now he sprang and attacked. He sliced with his disc and nearly gashed Tron’s shoulder.

“I’m not weak or sick anymore,” Tron said. He fended off Dyson’s strikes with his now-lit disc.

Dyson continued to strike, but Tron dodged or blocked nearly every attack.

Artemis watched as the two nearly-matched opponents battled. Discs flew and struck each other.

Just as Tron started to tire, another disc flew at Dyson. It caught him by surprise and hit him near the top of his calf.

He grunted in surprise and watched as the injury turned to cubes.

Sam took his chance and dropped down to join Tron. He reclaimed his disc.

“User,” Dyson snarled. “I should have known.”

“Yeah. You should have,” Sam agreed, and threw his disc.

Dyson countered it with his own, but Tron used the opening to corner Dyson.

Sam caught his and Dyson’s discs, and threw the unlit one to Artemis.

Dyson fought hand to hand, but was at a disadvantage without his disc.

Artemis tapped into the disc, but Dyson’s code was hidden well.

“It’s encrypted. This will take a bit longer than I thought.”

“That better still be fast,” Sam said. He dodged another strike from Dyson.

Dyson was good. He caught Sam off balance and nearly toppled him with a strike to the side of the leg. Sam managed to get upright and return with a kick. Tron shut off his disc edge and used his disc as a blunt force weapon.

Artemis ran through the code and manually decrypted the information. He concentrated everything he had on the task and scrolled through the code until he found the repurposing.

Dyson broke through Sam and Tron’s block, then ran and jumped into a tank. Now armed, he fired at Tron and Sam.

The two white-lined men guarded against the shots and took cover behind vehicles.

Artemis deleted the repurposed code, then looked for the original code and patched it into the right spot.

“I fixed the disc!” he yelled.

“Great,” Quorra said. “I’ll get it on Dyson.”

She ran and leaped, then landed atop one of the tanks.

Tron and Sam had managed to climb into a tank. They maneuvered it out of the lines and fired on Dyson.

Dyson fired back.

Quorra hopped across the tops of the tanks, holding Dyson’s disc out for balance.

The white tank spotted what Quorra was doing and fired in a quick wave to distract Dyson.

_ Tron’s at the firing controls, _ Artemis thought.

As Dyson backed his tank up, he fired at the white tank, the turret swiveling quickly.

Quorra jumped onto the white tank. She blended in well with her white light lines, and waved as she dropped through the hatch.

Sam rammed the white tank into Dyson’s tank, shattering both tanks into millions of tiny, perfect cubes. The impact forced Tron and Sam away from Dyson and Quorra, and distracted Dyson.

Dyson brushed the cubes off himself and stood up. Quorra circled, closing in.

She lunged forward and attempted to wrestle Dyson to the ground. Dyson sidestepped her and placed his foot on her back, holding her down.

“Sam!” Quorra cried out.

Sam rushed forward and knocked Dyson bodily to the ground. Dyson struggled and kicked Sam until he grunted in pain, but Sam managed to roll over.

“Give me the disc, Quorra,” he said.

Quorra handed him the unlit disc. Sam leaned over Dyson and prepared to lock in the fixed disc, but Dyson snapped his head back and rammed it into Sam’s nose.

Sam reacted instinctively and dropped the disc. He covered his face. Blood flowed through his fingers and dripped onto the floor, and his eyes watered.

Dyson picked up his disc, lit it, and advanced on Sam. Before he could strike again, Tron dashed to intercept the blow. He countered Dyson’s strike and twisted his arm behind his back.

“We’re not here to derez you,” Tron said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you if you continue to resist.”

Dyson’s eyes widened. Tron began to push, forcing Dyson to place his disc into his socket. Finally, Dyson stopped resisting, and the disc attached with an audible click.

The change emanated from the disc outward and Dyson’s lightlines became blue-white, like water soaking into a cloth.

Tron released his grip on Dyson’s arm, and turned to check on Sam. “Are you all--” His words were choked off as Dyson reached up and wrapped his hands around Tron’s neck.

Quorra ran to Tron and pulled Dyson’s fingers back, releasing some of the pressure on his windpipe. She snapped her arm down hard and knocked Dyson’s arm away from Tron’s throat.

Tron fell to his hands and knees and crawled a few feet away, processors whirring.

Quorra restrained Dyson and wrapped her arms around his chest, disc upwards. “Try something like that again and I will derez you,” she hissed.

Dyson laughed bitterly. “And Flynn claimed the ISOs were harmless.”

“Peaceful,” Quorra said. “Not harmless. There’s a difference.”

Tron drank a tiny vial of glowing blue liquid he took from a hidden compartment in his armor. “Sam, are you all right?”

Sam carefully removed his hand from his face. His glove, part of his arm, and face were covered in drying blood. “I don’t know. I’ve been in worse scrapes with my motorcycle, but I think my nose is broken.”

Tron handed him the vial. “Here. The energy will help deaden the pain, even if it won’t treat you like it would a program.”

Sam drank from it. “Thanks. Are there any programs who know how to help with this kind of injury?”

“Unfortunately, no. Any medics who were able to treat users were derezzed in the Purge,” Tron said. “I know your injury isn’t life threatening, but if you want to get treatment now, you’ll need to leave the Grid.”

Artemis walked up to the group.  _ This is it. I could just take his disc now and leave. _ There was a flaw in his plan, though. He knew it.  _ But - I like them. Tron, and Quorra, and even that smug Sam.  _ Despite the difference in features, Tron reminded Artemis too much of Butler, and Sam too much of Artemis’ father, for him to steal from and abandon them.

“I think we’re down to your plan, Arty,” Tron said. “Quorra will take Sam through the portal to get treated, and we’ll go to recode the other generals.”

“The portal will close if I leave,” Sam said. “If I go, I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

_ If only I still had some of Holly’s magic, _ Artemis thought.

“If you go?” Quorra said. “You have to go! You can’t stay here like this.”

“I owe it to the Grid,” Sam said. “I have to stay.”

“All right then,” Tron said. “But don’t get more injured.”

“Let’s go,” Artemis said. “We still have almost six and a half hours.”

“Shall we?” Tron picked up a piece of equipment and shackled Dyson to the wall. “They’ll find you in a cycle or so,” he said. “I hope you’ll reconsider your alliances.”

The group left the building and reentered their vehicles.


	6. New Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group splits in two - Tron and Artemis, and Sam and Quorra.

“The other generals are in a city across the Sea of Simulation,” Tron said. “We’ll have to take the jet.”

He rode to a section of docks, then returned his lightcycle to baton form, and stored it somewhere in his armor. Sam landed the jet to let Tron enter and then took off again.

“Past the portal,” Tron directed. “Argon City is the second-largest city on the Grid. Light Jets aren’t very common there, so we’ll need to walk most of the way to the city center.”

“And if we’re spotted?” Artemis asked.

“We go straight to the Games, since we aren’t registered -- or at least you aren’t registered -- here.”

“The Games?”

“War games. Disc fights to the derez, lightcycle racing, everything you wouldn’t want to try.”

Artemis shivered. He’d never admit it, though.

Sam landed the jet in the docks of Argon City. These docks were more compact, with less vehicles waiting.

“This way,” Tron led the group through a maze of shipping containers.

“Do you know what to do if we get lost here?” Artemis whispered to Sam.

“I’d say, get in the lightjet and leave,” Sam said. “I know this area about as well as you do.”

Quorra rolled her eyes. “I know the area.”

“General Tesler has two lieutenant generals,” Tron said. “Both are high-ranking, decent fighters, and wouldn’t hesitate to repurpose programs. We’ll need to recode them if we want to take down Tesler successfully.”

“Where would they be?” Sam asked.

“Most likely patrolling, or with Tesler himself.”

“Then maybe we should let ourselves get caught,” Sam suggested. “I’ve been in the Games before. Quorra did have to rescue me, but if we split into two groups, one to check for Tesler at the games, and one to check elsewhere, we could cover Argon much faster.”

“If you’re thinking I should go to the games-” Artemis began.

“No. You’ll stay with me and use my base to help locate the generals in the city.” Tron said.

“So it’s agreed,” Sam said. “Quorra and I will be bait in the games, while you and Arty use your base to scout.”

“Just do what you did when you first arrived.” Tron smirked. “You’ll get to the games soon enough.”

He turned to Artemis. “Usually bikes are single-rider, but I think I can fit you in.”

Artemis nodded.


	7. An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tron and Artemis pick up another ally on their way to take down the generals.

Tron opened the baton and started the lightcycle. Artemis awkwardly mounted beside him. They sped off past the city towards a mountain on the outskirts of it.

Tron’s helmet reappeared, snapping into place and hiding his face.

“Why do you do that?”

“Habit,” Tron answered. “I’ve got more enemies than friends.”

“I can relate,” Artemis said. “In my world, I’m infamous in both legal and illegal circles.”

“So you’re a criminal?”

“I don’t stick to the white side of the line,” Artemis said. “But I’ve become more choosy in my crimes.”

Tron nodded. They drove quickly and soon arrived at a hidden opening in the side of the mountain. Inside was a sleek white and black facility. Cubes were scattered across the floor, trailed like drops of blood from a huge, broken canister set into one wall.

“What happened here?” Artemis asked.

“I was -- injured -- while trying to heal in the chamber,” Tron said. “We had to evacuate.”

“We? You and Sam?”

Tron didn’t answer. He walked to the huge window and tapped it.

Someone spoke from the other side of the room. “Stop right there, and identify yourself.” The voice was male, though oddly soft for the hard words.

Artemis turned to look for the source of the voice. A lean program with white armor and lightlines stood against the wall, partially concealed by the white lightlines of the building.

“I’m Ar-” he began to say, but before he could finish, the program stalked up to Tron.

“You’re back?” the program asked. His helmet disappeared, revealing a young man’s square face with dark circles beneath his eyes.

“I’m back, and no longer repurposed, as you can see,” Tron gestured to his lightlines.

“I thought you were gone. I thought you joined Clu.”

“Beck, I’d never do that. At least not willingly. I fight for the Users.”

“And I fight for the Grid,” Beck said. “Is.. there a User among us right now?”

“Yes. The Son of Flynn is here, working to fix repurposed programs, and Arty, his friend, is here with me.”

Artemis nodded.

“That’s… amazing. So the Users do exist,” Beck said. “Does that mean I have to give up being the Renegade?”

“Absolutely not.” Tron said. “The Grid will always need protectors within it, regardless of the presence of Users. Now that Clu’s gone, Sam found a way to fix repurposed programs, and taught me. But I’ll need help.”

Beck grinned. “Looks like this uniform will be getting used more often again.”

“We’d better get looking for Tesler’s lieutenants,” Artemis said.

Tron tapped the window again, and it lit up with a circle around his hand. Through it, the city could be seen in high magnification. “Look for programs with red lightlines and non-standard uniforms.”

Beck and Artemis took other stations by the window and used the magnification to search.

“Found one,” Beck said. “You were looking for Paige or Pavel, right?”  
“Which did you find, and where?” Tron said.

“Top of the bridge. It’s Paige.”

“Don’t tell me,” Tron laughed. “You knew exactly where she was.”

“Yeah,” Beck said. “I’ve been coming here to watch her. Now that Clu’s gone, she takes more breaks.”

“Do you think she would go willingly if we tried to recode her?” Artemis asked.

“Maybe. She’s seemed like she would change sides a couple times.”

“But we’d still have to confront her in order to do it,” Tron said. “Do you have an extra lightcycle for Arty?”

“Of course,” Beck said. He removed a baton from a container in the middle of the room and tossed it to Artemis.

Artemis fumbled but managed to catch it. Beck stared.

“Even Users aren’t perfect,” Tron said. “Let’s go, before she leaves her hiding spot.”

“Okay,” Beck said.

The trio pulled apart their batons and mounted the lightcycles. Artemis couldn’t help but notice that Beck watched him as he learned the physical side of driving a lightcycle.

They drove down the mountain and into Argon.

“You said never to remove my helmet,” Beck said. “Can this time be an exception?”

Tron thought about it for a while. Finally, he gave a quick nod, then sealed his own helmet.

Artemis chuckled.  _ Beck may have a thing for this general. Hopefully that’s not a problem. _


	8. Paige

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beck, Tron, and Artemis confront Paige.

Soon they had arrived at the bridge. Instead of riding the lightcycles across the span, like any sane person would, Tron and Beck veered off and balanced their cycles on the cables.

Artemis tried to follow, but his balance was mediocre at best. Finally, he deactivated his lightcycle and crawled up the cable.

The cable’s incline grew steeper. Beck began crawling as well, unable to drive the lightcycle further. Tron continued for a bit longer, but as the slope became nearly vertical, he was also forced to climb.

“I guess we should have taken the jet,” Artemis called up to the two programs ahead of him.

“Too loud,” Beck replied. “She would have chuted off and we’d never find her.”

Finally, the cable entered the bridge support with a hip-height ledge to climb up to the top. Artemis scrambled over in time to see Beck’s white armor dissolve as he walked up to Paige, who sat on the edge.

“Beck?!” she said. “I thought you were dead!”  
“I’m not,” he said.

“What happened? Why are you here?”  
Beck sighed and replaced the second part of a disc on his back. White armor emblazoned with a ‘T’ made up of four squares of light reappeared.

“You’re the Renegade?” Paige said. Her voice became sharp. “I should have known. No mechanic would have done some of the things you did. I should have turned you in when I had the chance.”

“And no Occupation worker should have healed an enemy,” Beck said. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Paige answered by pulling out her disc and lighting it. She pointed it at Beck.

Beck pulled out his own disc reluctantly, but did not light it. “I can help you,” she said. “Clu brainwashed you. He’s gone now, you don’t need to keep fighting for a cause you can’t win. You don’t have to stay this way.”

“I’m living proof,” Tron said, revealing himself.

“Two renegades?” Paige said. “That explains a lot. And I think I know who you are,” she said. “Tron.”

Tron didn’t respond, but that was all the confirmation Paige needed. She rushed him and prepared to go straight for the T on his chest.

Tron sidestepped her and threw his unlit disc in an arc that looked like it had to hit Paige. She knocked his disc out of the air, grabbed it, and attacked with both discs.

Beck, still armed, stepped in and blocked the strikes. Paige whirled and tried to hit him in the back.

Beck backflipped over the discs, grabbed Tron’s disc from Paige, and tossed it to Tron. In response, Paige pulled out a staff, twirled it, and hit Beck square in the chest.

Beck stumbled back, winded.

Tron moved stealthily toward Paige and tried to grab her disc. She anticipated that move and smacked his hand away with the staff.

Artemis watched as Beck moved in and forced Paige to guard with both of her weapons.

Beck reached for Paige’s disc, but she turned to attack Tron instead and beat Beck with the staff. Tron held Paige’s disc in both hands and blocked her blow. Her hands were forced down.

“You don’t get to change me,” she spat. “I don’t want to change.”

“You wanted to change for me,” Beck said. “But you were too scared of Clu.”

“I’m not scared!” Paige struck at Beck with her disc, but in her hesitation Beck almost grabbed it.

As his fingers started to curl around the edge of the disc, Paige pulled her baton away from Tron, slashed it down, and knocked Beck’s arm away.

Using his unlit disc, Tron tapped Paige on the shoulder, then jinked away when she tried to retaliate. As Tron backed up, Paige struck with her baton again and hit him on the wrist. 

Tron winced, then twisted his arm and grabbed the staff. He pulled it over his head and forced Paige to move along with it. She pulled back, trying to regain control of the staff, but Tron was strong enough to wrench it from her grasp.

“Agh!” she cried out. She cradled her wrist awkwardly.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Beck said. He walked closer.

Before he could take her disc, Paige punched him in the face. Beck reached for her disc anyway, but she followed up with a kick and forced him back.

Tron grabbed the staff from her again. He immediately took careful strikes and drove her back to Beck.

She threw her disc wildly, trying to stop Tron’s advance, but instead, Beck caught her disc.

“Okay, Arty, do your thing,” he said, hurling the unlit disc to Artemis.

Artemis’ fingers flew through the data. He found the damaged code and fixed it, reconnected missing variables, and copied hidden code. This time, the decrypting was easier.

“Done.” He tossed the disc to Beck.

“I know you trust me, somewhere under there,” Beck said as he put the disc in her slot. “I hope this helps you realize that.”

Paige closed her eyes as the disc snapped in.

Her lightlines blinked and guttered like an old halogen bulb, then lit up bright green.

“Green?” Artemis asked. “What does that mean?”

“She’s a medic,” Tron replied.

Paige opened her eyes and blinked. “The ISOs -- I didn’t… Where am I?”

“It’s all right. You’re up here on the bridge,” Beck said.

“The bridge - oh cubes. Shouldn’t I be in the hospital?” Paige asked.

“You’ve been a soldier under General Tesler,” Tron said. “You aren’t anymore.”

“I’m not programmed to be a soldier,” Paige said, still confused.

“Well, you are a great fighter,” Beck replied.

“Is this normal?” Artemis asked. “I did it the same way as last time.”

“It’s not that unusual,” Tron said. “I was disoriented for a few cycles after returning to normal.” He turned to Paige and said, “I know this is confusing, but you’re safe now. You can help us or return to your job, whichever you wish.”

“My job… the hospital! Everyone was derezzed,” Paige said. “The ISOs took revenge because they thought I betrayed them.”

“No,” Tron said. “Tesler destroyed the other medics because they were in contact with the ISOs.”

“Why did he spare me then?”

“He knew he could brainwash you because you hadn’t seen them leave peacefully,” Beck said.

“Tesler did that?! If he did that,” Paige said, “I regret ever joining his army. Let me help you take them down.”

Beck nodded. “If you get your memories back, don’t worry. I can help you.”

Paige crossed her arms. “Let’s do this.”

Beck helped Paige onto his cycle, then drove back down the bridge. Tron and Artemis followed.

“That’s two down, two to go,” Tron said.

Artemis drove his cycle carefully, not wanting to fall. He followed Tron and Beck through the city.

1010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101


	9. Arena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Quorra face the Games to draw out a general.

Sam and Quorra stood back to back, discs out.  
“We’ll be fine,” Sam said. “I’ve survived the war games before.”  
“But only because I helped you. And you didn’t have a broken nose then,” Quorra said.  
A voice boomed out over the stadium. “Ready. Disc wars - to the death!”  
Secondary hard light armor snapped on over Quorra and Sam’s suits. They sealed their helmets as a first wave of combatants leaped into the arena.  
“Too bad there’s so many of them. We could have recoded them instead.”  
“These sentries live to fight. Let’s give them what they’ve given so many innocent programs.”  
Sam threw his disc. It arced around and into a Sentry as he approached them. The disc smashed through the Sentry and derezzed him.  
Quorra fought hand to hand and kept the approaching Sentries out of range to strike. Sam threw his disc repeatedly and arced it through and around the Sentries.  
As each opponent derezzed, the announcer called out “Player 4 deleted. Player 7 deleted.”  
The attacks came slower now, which allowed Quorra to check the stands for the generals.  
“See anyone?” Sam called, out of breath. His voice was a bit nasally from his earlier injury.  
“Nothing yet,” Quorra answered. She pushed a Sentry off her and derezzed him.  
Sam checked the stands and finally noticed a rectangular box lined with yellow lightlines, with two red-lined programs watching the fight.  
“Up there,” he said. “In the yellow box.”  
“Ready to escape?” Quorra asked. She pulled out a baton hidden near her boot and opened the end.  
“Whenever you are,” Sam said.  
Quorra gripped the baton and cast it like a fishing rod, launching a light wire from its tip that caught on the edge of the arena. Sam held onto the baton and the two swung into the crowd. They caused some chaos as they pushed through the tightly-packed programs.  
Alarms blared, and the two red-lined programs in the yellow box left to secure the exits. Sentries and Red Guards filed into the stands and shoved aside programs as they tried to reach Quorra and Sam.  
Quorra looked around, hoping to see the generals as Sam led the way to a less guarded exit. “No idea where they went,” she said.  
“I bet we’ll find them if we can get out of here,” Sam replied. “The Red Guard are sore losers.”

Finally, they ducked out of the arena and ran down a side street back into the city center.


	10. Pavel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Quorra face off against Pavel. (Sorry for posting so off schedule!)

“Recognizers in three, two, one…” Sam counted down. As he said ‘zero’, the generals’ ships took off from the other side of the arena.

The pair sealed their helmets and watched as the Recognizers projected holographic screens between their leg-like bars.

General Tesler’s face appeared on the screen. “Greetings, programs of Argon!” he said. “Two highly dangerous programs have escaped from the Games. A reward will be given to the program who brings in these criminals.”

The screens flashed a picture of Sam and Quorra.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam asked.

“Go for it,” Quorra said.

Sam pulled out the jet baton, opened it, then hopped in with Quorra. They flew up to the lead Recognizer, weapons ready for a fight.

At first, there was no sigh the enemy had spotted them.

Then the Recognizer pivoted and faced the oncoming lightjet.

Quorra fired at the Recognizer, caused slight damage, and goaded the other vehicle to retaliate. The Recognizer fired back, and as Sam narrowly avoided the blasts, he asked, “That was your plan?”

“Part of it.”

Two Sentries wearing chutes jumped from the Recognizer and headed toward the now-lower lightjet.

“I don’t think I like your plan much,” Sam said.

“You’ll like it better if you don’t let them board us. Let me do the firing.”

Sam swerved the lightjet so the Sentries missed it, but continued to follow the Recognizer. Quorra shot at the Recognizer and hit it, causing two more Sentries to evacuate.

“The more Sentries we can get off that thing, the less we’ll have to deal with when we get inside,” Quorra said.

“Won’t they realize we’re baiting them?” Sam asked, just as the Recognizer stopped abruptly and their lightjet crashed into the ship.

The lightjet’s wings derezzed, forcing Sam and Quorra to jump on the platform extending from the Recognizer’s body.

“Think they were expecting us,” Sam quipped. He pulled out his disc.

Quorra nodded. “But Tesler or his lackey is behind the wheel. No one else does that kind of maneuver.”

The elevator-like platform pulled Sam and Quorra up into the body of the Recognizer. Once it had fully retracted, they faced a stocky program with an unappealing face and the wispy beginnings of a moustache.

“I couldn’t let you get away this easily, could I? Maybe Tesler will reward me with disposing of the two of you.”

“Oh, so you think disposing of programs is an honor, huh?” Sam said.

“Of course! Why else would it be so satisfying?” asked the general. He pulled out and lit his disc.

“We’d rather you be satisfied by something else,” Quorra said. She and Sam pulled out their discs.

Before they could go for the general’s disc, he had already knocked the discs from their hands at lightning speed.

“No one denies General Pavel his due.” He tossed their discs up and caught them lazily.

Sam lunged for his disc, but Pavel was too fast. He grabbed both discs out of the air and hid them somewhere in his cloak.

Quorra ran at Pavel. She tried to catch him off guard, but he easily sidestepped the move. It looked as if she’d aimed wrong and he’d never moved.

“How is he so fast?” Sam wondered aloud.

Pavel chuckled as he dodged Sam’s futile strikes, then parried with several hard and fast punches of his own. Sam coughed and spluttered, feeling his chest, side, and face burn with the blunt pain. Quorra saw him try to retreat and rushed Pavel again. This time she landed a hit.

Pavel grunted, but shrugged off the attack as he faced Quorra. “No program fights like that,” he said.

Quorra’s armband had slipped down, revealing a lightline embedded in her forearm.

“It’s been forever since I’ve faced an ISO,” Pavel said, grinning nastily.

Sam didn’t bother to be subtle. He threw a punch that Pavel dodged, but that allowed Quorra to snatch at his cloak. She grabbed the material, but couldn’t find the discs hidden in it.

Pavel thrust out his arm and knocked Quorra away from him.

Sam tried to hit the general while he was occupied, but Pavel was just too fast.

“Uh uh,” Pavel said. “No discs for you two.”

“If derezzing programs is such an honor,” Quorra spat. “Why don’t you get on with it?”

“Oh no,” Pavel said. “I didn’t say I’d be derezzing you yet.”

Sam tried to ignore the pain and failed miserably. He lunged for Pavel’s cloak, feeling his ribs become even more sore. This time, Pavel wasn’t expecting a grab, and Sam managed to get his disc back.

“I can see why you two were put in the games,” Pavel said. “But I will finish you.” He punctuated this by pulling out his disc and lighting it.

Sam threw up his arm with his disc and blocked Pavel’s strike. Pavel pressed down on his disc, which was still locked against Sam’s, and tried to press the lighted edge against Sam’s body. As Sam struggled to keep from hitting himself, Quorra retrieved her disc from Pavel.

Relieved, she pulled Pavel back and held her disc against his. Sam rolled out from under Pavel and grabbed the general’s disc.

He flipped it over and prepared to access Pavel’s code, but instead noticed a red, transparent ring attached to the underside.

“So this is where you’re getting such an upgrade,” Sam muttered. He detached the disc mod from Pavel’s disc.

Pavel found himself weak enough to be successfully flipped by Quorra. He landed hard on the floor of the Recognizer. Quorra took the hint and pressed her advantage to keep Pavel busy as Sam fixed his code.

_ Self-propagating code from the mod too. _ Sam found and deleted the hidden recurrences.  _ Now for the repurposing. Let’s fix what Clu broke. _

Sam finished recoding Pavel’s disc and passed it to Quorra, who snapped it into Pavel’s disc mount.

Pavel struggled for a microcycle as the red lightlines faded to white, then cowered as Sam and Quorra stood over him.

“Don’t turn me over to Tesler,” he said.

“And to think this coward claimed to have honor,” Quorra said, “I think we’ll leave him to the --”

The guards finally seemed to notice what happened. They turned to apprehend Sam and Quorra. As the two fought the guards, they caught glimpses out the window of a red-lined building growing larger and larger through the Recognizer’s window.

1010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101


	11. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tron, Beck, Paige, and Artemis meet back up with Sam and Quorra. (Posted a day late but oh well)

As Tron, Beck, Artemis, and Paige sped through the streets on lightcycles, they noticed the battle between the lightjet and the Recognizers.

“Another visitor?” Beck asked Tron, as they stopped to watch the battle.

“That’s the Son of Flynn in action,” Tron said.

Then the lightjet crashed into the Recognizer, and the jet’s two occupants were abducted.

“And that,” Artemis said, “is our cue.”

“Let’s follow the Recognizer,” Beck said.

“And if it goes to Tesler’s base, we’re another step closer to our goal,” Tron said.

Paige was still somewhat disoriented, but she nodded and followed the group as they raced through Argon. As the Recognizer closed in on Tesler’s base, Tron took the lead with Artemis and Paige in back.

“It’ll be crawling with guards,” Beck said. “But we can take them on all together.”  
_If I’m able to contribute,_ Artemis thought. _I might be able to figure out throwing my disc, it’s nothing but angular physics, but direct strikes?_

He drove behind and followed quietly.

Tron and Beck’s lightcycles screeched to a halt as four Sentries descended on them.

“Ready to do some quick coding?” Beck asked Artemis.

“Definitely.”

The two programs got off their lightcycles and pulled out their discs, but left them unlit. They parried the Sentries’ strikes, disarmed the guards, and tossed the discs to Artemis.

Artemis caught them awkwardly in both hands, then set the discs down on the surface of his lightcycle. His fingers flew and he recoded the discs, then tossed them to Tron and Beck, who were holding back the Sentries.

As the four discs snapped onto their owners’ mounts, the Sentries lightlines returned to white. Tron and Beck mounted their lightcycles and sped off before the ex-guards could recover.

Artemis and Paige followed, but soon after the battle was over, Paige spoke up.

“I think… I remember something.”

“Do you need to talk about it?” Artemis said.  _ Look at me, going soft. _

“I’ve seen Beck fight like that before, except I think I was the one he was fighting.” Paige weaved her lightcycle back and forth.

“Take it easy,” Artemis snapped. “There’s barely room for two lightbikes right here!”  
“All right then,” Paige snapped back. “I’m not sharing this space with you.” She gunned the engine of the lightcycle and roared past Artemis.

_ So much for being friendly _ , Artemis thought. He sighed, sped up, and struggled to balance the vehicle.

The only lightlines in this area, besides those of the bikes and their riders, were orange and yellow. The Recognizer Sam and Quorra were on still flew overhead, but the formation of other Recognizers made it difficult to track.

“The Recognizers are definitely increasing in number,” Artemis called out.

“I see the one we’re after still,” Beck said. “They’re all going to the same place, anyways.”

The space between buildings grew tighter. Orange, yellow, and red lightlines pressed in until the lightcycles could barely fit between the spaces.

“We’ll walk now,” Tron said. His bike disappeared and he sealed his helmet. Beck and Paige did the same, while Artemis could only dismount his bike and follow, face uncovered.

_ Great. I’m getting plenty of exercise today. _

Finally, the group reached a small door tucked into the narrow alleys. “In here,” Beck said.

“Wait a millicycle,” Paige said. “This is where I worked after Tesler derezzed the other medics.”

“Yes.” Beck said. “Are you okay with going back inside?”

“You kidding?” Paige said. “Tesler will pay for what he did to the others.” She pulled out her disc and flicked its lights on and off again.

They filed into the building. The only noise was their footsteps on the dark floor.

“The Son of Flynn should be in the hangar now, but if we don’t hurry, they’ll take him to the ghost machine,” Beck said.

“Ghost machine as in it is a ghost?” Artemis asked. “Or…”

“It turns programs to ghosts,” Beck finished. “Who knows what it’ll do to a User?”

_ I for one do not want to find out, _ Artemis thought. As they continued to walk through the building, Artemis noticed blue-white tinted cubes on the ground. They contrasted sharply with the clean shapes of the room, and they were scattered randomly across the entire room.

Beck and Paige noticed the cubes as well. They even tried to avoid stepping close to any, but if Tron noticed, he didn’t show it.

“The only weapon that does this much damage belongs to General Tesler.” Beck whispered.

No one knew what to say after that. After what seemed like an hour, the group entered the red-lined doorway. The doors slid shut and Artemis became dizzy, in the normal way elevators cause dizziness.

“Be ready,” Tron said. “General Tesler is no ordinary program.”

“Neither are you,” Paige said. “I remember that much.”

The elevator doors opened, revealing a hangar with thousands of Recognizers docked. An escort of guards led two white lined figures out of one of the ships.

“There!” Artemis said.

The four climbed down a ladder and walked, hidden beside the Recognizers, over to Sam and Quorra.

They were not unnoticed, however. Some of the guards left their posts by the other two and stalked toward Artemis, Beck, Paige, and Tron.

“Cubes,” Paige whispered. She pulled out her disc, but Beck gently lowered her hand.

“We know a better way now,” he whispered.

The sentries turned.

“If you have anything you haven’t shown us when it comes to fighting,” Tron said, “use it now, Arty.”

Artemis pulled out his disc, threw it, and tried to make it hit the Sentry’s staff.

The throw covered all of ten feet, then clattered to the ground behind the Sentries.

“What was that?” one asked. He turned to look.

“Intruders!” the other Sentry said. They began to search the rows of Recognizers for other programs and carried away Artemis’ disc.

“I guess that’ll have to do.” Beck unsheathed his own disc.

The group moved over to Sam and Quorra and avoided the searching Sentries. When they’d gotten within earshot of the guards, Tron quickly ambushed them and took their discs, then gave the discs to Artemis and Beck.

“I’m no User.” Beck passed the disc to Artemis.

“You seemed eager to fix Paige’s disc,” Artemis whispered. He recoded both discs anyway.

Beck looked away and wouldn’t reply, but Paige took a step closer.

Artemis laughed, forgetting to be quiet. The Sentries with Artemis’ disc looked over.

“Get these to Tron,” Artemis told Paige. She nodded and took the discs from him.

Beck nodded at the oncoming Sentry. “They’ve got your disc. Want it back?”

When Artemis said yes, Beck took off running. Unwillingly, Artemis followed and hoped his minimal martial arts training would help.

Before Artemis had even arrived, Beck had already disarmed the Sentries and gotten Artemis’ disc back. He tossed it to Artemis.

“Try to keep hold of that, please.”

Artemis locked his disc back into his mount and fixed the Sentries’ discs.

Once all the Sentries had been recoded, Tron said, “Just leave the building. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t hint at what happened.”

The Sentries didn’t agree or disagree.

Once the former Sentries had gone, Beck pulled out a handle-shaped object and attached it to the cuffs binding Quorra and Sam.

“You brought a few friends, I see?” Sam said wryly.

“We wanted a fair fight.” Artemis watched as the cuffs became transparent and showed their wireframes, and Beck manipulated the inner workings. When he’d finished, the cuffs sprang open.

Beck tossed the tool into the air, caught it, and put it away. “You’d think Tesler would order more complex cuffs to hold the Son of Flynn.”

“Just call me Sam.”

“Tesler’s bound to figure out what happened,” Paige said. “Shouldn’t you, you know, fix his code before that happens?”

“We also only have three hours before the portal closes,” Artemis said. “And we’ll need time to get to it.”

Paige noticed Sam’s nose. “Wow, how did that happen?”

“Fight with a different general. I think it’s broken.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

She walked over to Sam and placed her fingers on his disc. “I’ll need access to your disc.”

Beck nodded.

“Okay,” Sam said.

Paige opened Sam’s disc, checked his ‘code’, and deftly located the problem. “Yeah, you’ve got a fracture. I’ll give it a patch.”

Sam held still as Paige wrote a few new lines into his disc. A bandage appeared and held his nose still.

“There. Best I can do for a User,” Paige said.

“Let’s get going,” Tron said. “Tesler will fight us whether or not we’re ready for it.”


	12. Tesler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis, Tron, Beck, Paige, Sam, and Quorra face off against General Tesler. (Second to last chapter, everyone!)

The group found the elevator, continued up the base, and finally reached a room with an expansive view of Argon City, so high up the programs were invisible.

_ Ironic, how programs that are invisible here are even more so off the Grid, _ Artemis thought.  _ Maybe this General likes it that way. _

“Where is he?” Beck didn’t bother to be quiet.

“Over here,” Paige said. She led the group to a black, oval-shaped chamber inside the room.

A bulky, tall program with a long, squared face stepped out of the area.

“Oh, Paige,” he said with some form of concern in his voice. “What have they done to you?”

His red lightlines flowed off his shoulders onto a cloak.

Paige stepped back.

General Tesler smiled grimly. He shook his cape back, revealing large hands that glowed like firebrands. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t need to do this,” he said. “But it seems my right-hand program needs discipline.”

“Scatter!” Beck said, just as Tesler thrust out his hands and launched them in straight lines at the small group. Artemis dropped to his hands and knees so he wouldn’t be hit. Tron leaped straight up, flipped in the air, and landed to the side of Tesler’s deadly hand.

Beck deflected one of the hand-missiles with his disc and knocked it in a direction that protected Paige as well.

The hands rebounded and angled back at Beck and Tron.

“These aren’t a part of you, right?” Beck said.

Tesler was caught off guard and didn’t answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Beck slashed at the trail of yellow light connecting the hand to Tesler and displaced a few cubes. The hand didn’t derez.

Artemis understood.  _ The hands’ power comes through Tesler. Separate them, and they turn off. _

Sam left the shadows and threw his disc. It arced, rebounded off a wall, and struck one of Tesler’s arms with more force than a melee strike.

Paige and Quorra looked at each other for a long microcycle.

“Let’s catch up later,” Quorra said.

Paige nodded. They rushed in to Tesler while he was focusing on the others. Limited to using his feet, Tesler was easily knocked off balance by Quorra’s nimble movements and Paige’s quick strikes.

The arm-weapons stretched and redirected at Sam.

Sam managed to knock away one of the hands, but a badly-timed dodge caused the other to angle around and trap him like a trail from a lightcycle.

Artemis, recovered from his humiliation, wound up and threw his disc again, and nearly sprained his arm in the process. The disc ricocheted off the wall and lodged itself in the arm blocking Sam.

Sam grabbed the disc, pulled, and severed the hand. Tesler’s arm retracted.

Paige attempted to grab Tesler’s disc as he retracted the wounded arm, but with his arm free, he elbowed her and forced her to retreat.

Tron and Beck now approached Tesler. Sam tossed Artemis’ disc back.

“Nice throw,” Sam said.

With only one threatening hand left, and six attacking him, Tesler seemed beaten already. As the group approached to surround him, Tesler threw out his arm, swung it, and tried to get a grip on one of his attackers. He caught Paige’s arm as she sheathed her disc.

Where his hand touched her, Paige’s arm began to desolidify. Cubic fractures appeared and spiderwebbed out from the general’s molten-iron grip.

“No!” Beck shouted. He broke the formation and struck furiously at Tesler’s arm.

Paige cried out in pain as the damage continued to spread.

Quorra joined in attacking Tesler’s arm, threw her disc, and caused enough damage for him to retract it.

Tron ran for the disc, dodged Tesler’s attacks with his retreating arm, and finally managed to grab Tesler’s disc.

Tesler shouldered Tron down and prepared to grab his head.

Four discs flew through the air and cut through Tesler’s remaining arm weapon, then arced back to their owners. While Tesler looked disbelievingly at the pile of cubes that until recently had been his arm weapon, Tron threw Tesler’s disc to Artemis.

Artemis broke the security encryptions and fixed Tesler’s code. He repaired some damage and replaced rewritten functions with their original sets. Once the recoding was finished, he ran up to Tesler, slightly out of breath, and clicked the disc into place.

Tesler arched his back and groaned as his lightlines changed to white.  _ Is it my imagination, or are his hands regrowing? _ Artemis and the others scrambled away as Tesler’s hands returned, but the general didn’t seem to be able to attack. His eyes rolled back and he fainted, hands no longer white-hot, but still large.

“Time to go?” Sam said. “Before he boots up again?”

“Sure,” Beck said. “Tesler will be hurting a lot less programs without Clu’s influence and upgrades.”  
Paige looked back at the program who’d lied to her and kept her fighting innocents for so long, then followed the group to the elevator.

_ We did it. We actually did it, _ Artemis thought as they left the building. They fixed the code of a few guards on the way.

The others seemed excited too. Paige and Quorra talked and caught up on something since they’d met before, while Sam pulled stunts on his lightcycle.

Artemis pulled up by Tron and Beck. “So, we did it. What’ll happen next?”

“There are many programs out there who aren’t free from Clu’s influence. Beck and I know how to fix them now, but it will be a while until the Grid is back to normal.”

“I should have asked you this earlier,” Beck said. “Was that lightjet from the garage in Argon?”

“No,” Artemis said.

Beck sighed. “That’s good. If you borrowed it from Mara, she wouldn’t be happy you lost it. Hopefully you won’t be in trouble.”

“How do you know the programs at this garage?”

Beck smiled. He took one hand off the bike’s controls to pull out his disc and pop something off the back of it. Instantly, the white lightlines and armor rezzed into a black program with blue lightlines that looked like almost any other program on Argon’s streets.

“I’m a mechanic for my job. You didn’t think I was always Tron’s double?”

“I don’t know this world as well as the other one. You seemed pretty good at being a freedom fighter.”

“You’re lucky we aren’t in a populated area,” Tron said. “You would have been spotted. Don’t switch discs again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Beck said. “It’s less of a big deal now that we’ve fixed the generals’ code.”

“Dyson’s still vicious,” Sam said. “Are you sure you’re up to the task of fixing the rest of the Occupation?”

“Definitely.” Beck and Tron said.

“And don’t count me out either,” Paige said.

“We’ve got about an hour left,” Artemis said. “So let’s go back to the other city, return the bikes, pay for the jet, and get to the portal before we’re stuck here.”

“All right,” Sam said. “Let’s head for the docks. We’ll take a boat.”

The group drove out to the docks, where they dismounted the lightcycles and found a boat they could use.

“I think I’ll stay in Argon,” Beck said. “Goodbye, Users.”

Paige leaned comfortably against him. “Argon’s my home now, too.”

“We’ll visit,” Quorra said.

“Thank you for your help,” Sam said. “Bye!”

“Goodbye,” Artemis said.

Tron, Sam, Quorra, and Artemis climbed into the boat and waved to Beck and Paige until they were lost in the distance.

As they rode across the sea in the lightboat, Artemis thought about everything they’d done and seen.  _ This world’s amazing. So different from our own, but with some of the same problems. _

Soon they’d docked in the main city, where they climbed out and rode the lightcycles back to the garage. Sam collected the batons from Artemis and Quorra, then walked into the garage to return them.

Though Artemis couldn’t hear what was said, the program in the garage did raise his voice at Sam when he tried to explain the missing lightjet. Eventually, the argument calmed down, and Sam left without being reported to the Red Guard.

“How did you get out of that one?” Quorra asked. “He was really mad.”

“I told him I was the Son of Flynn. When that didn’t work, I told him the baton was somewhere in the streets of Argon, and if he hurried, he might find it.”

“Well, at least you didn’t bluff,” Quorra said.

They walked back through the streets and found an entrance to a gondola-like Solar Sailer. The box compartment attached to a large, hexagonal sail that carried the vehicle swiftly along a line to the portal.

“You know,” Sam said to Tron, who’d accompanied them through the city, “Alan would love to see what’s happened to his greatest creation.”

Tron nodded solemnly. “Thank you, but the Grid needs me. I’ll work on fixing the programs that are still repurposed, and once that’s done, I’ll keep watch like I always have.”

“Still, if you ever want to see the world outside the Grid,” Sam said.

“I’ll know to ask you when you return,” Tron said. “And I’ll keep fighting for the Users, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” Sam said.

As the solar sailer docked at the floating island that held the portal, the sail folded inwards and allowed the group to disembark. Sam and Quorra stepped into the storm of bright light at the end of the bridge.

“Come on, then,” Sam said.

Artemis followed them and waited in the beam of energy. Sam removed his disc and thrust it into the light, which grew blinding as the disc hovered there.

Tron watched as Sam, Quorra, and Artemis disappeared into the light, then left on the solar sailer. He’d do what he promised Sam.

1010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101010101


	13. Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis, Sam, and Quorra return to the world of the users. Artemis reveals his identity. (Final Chapter!)

Artemis blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim laser room. Sam stood beside him, dressed in a motorcycle jacket and jeans again. Quorra was nearby as well.

His watch buzzed, and Sam’s phone rang.

“Where are you?” the text from Juliet read.

Sam answered the phone. “Hello? Yes, I’m here. Oh, a security breach? Really? I’m down here, and there’s no security breach from what I can see.” He winked at Artemis. “Just send them away. False alarm.”

“Thank you. I owe you one.”  
“You’re welcome. It’s not every day you get to bring someone new to the grid, Arty.”

“Please, call me Artemis. Artemis Fowl.” He smiled.

Sam stared in disbelief. “Artemis Fowl. The Artemis Fowl.”  
“Yes.”

“Well, no wonder you didn’t want me to call them in on you. You’re wanted for industrial espionage and theft in five countries!”

“Seven, actually. And I only steal from companies that withhold important information from the public about their dealings.”  
“And you think that excuses you?” Sam said. “I’m considering calling them back and telling them that you’re here.”  
“It doesn’t excuse my actions, of course,” Artemis said. “Please don’t call them back. Aren’t you just as illegally here?”

“They’d excuse me. I do own the company, after all.”

“What? I thought Dillinger owned Encom.”

“Dillinger runs the board, but I own Encom. I inherited it from my dad, Kevin Flynn.”

“So you’re that Sam Flynn. I thought you seemed familiar.”

“Well, now that I know who you are, I’m not letting you go quietly. For all I know, you’d patent the Grid technology and sell it yourself.”

Quorra was now just as angry. “You tricked us, and you’re not getting away with it.”

“I did come to steal,” Artemis admitted. “But I haven’t completed the crime. If you let me walk out of here without getting arrested, I’ll delete the stolen data from my storage and never try to steal from Encom again. Deal?”

“Deal,” Sam said.

Quorra nodded.

The three walked to the elevator, past the servers, and returned to ground level in the Encom tower. Sam led Artemis out through a huge, red door to a side parking lot.

“That’s a large door,” Artemis remarked.

“It sure is,” Quorra said.

“There, you’re out,” Sam said. “Now delete the data.”

Artemis opened up his phone storage. He was tempted to send it to the Fowl Manor computers, but a promise was a promise. He deleted the information. “It’s gone.”

“Thanks,” Sam said. “My dad worked hard to keep this company. My bike’s over there, do you need a ride?”

“No thanks, my brother and friend are waiting for me. I’ll go with them.”

“Well, see you,” Sam said.

“See you,” Artemis echoed. He walked the few blocks to where Juliet was waiting with Myles in the rental car.

“What took you so long?” Juliet asked.

“Did you get the information?” Myles said.

“I changed my mind,” Artemis said simply. “Encom isn't so bad after all.”

“That’s a trip wasted,” Myles said, disgusted.

As Artemis watched the cars streak past in paths of light, he thought to himself,  _ Not wasted at all. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this! It's been a journey and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have!


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